


Lullaby

by owlaholic68



Category: Monster of the Week (Tabletop RPG), Original Work
Genre: ?? kind of but James is the one not consenting, Begging, Between Sessions, Blood and Gore, Canon Compliant, Chapter 2 is NSFW, Dom/sub, Explicit Sexual Content, Humiliation, Jacques kills Cecilus and James is not happy about that, M/M, Non-Consensual Blood Drinking, Panic Attacks, Role Reversal, Rough Oral Sex, Safeword Use, Sexual Punishment, Submissive Jacques
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-22 14:20:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22450981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlaholic68/pseuds/owlaholic68
Summary: You arrive along with the sunWhere have you been darlin'? What have you done?You were out finding trouble againThere's a fire in your eyes and there's blood on your hands
Relationships: James/Jacques, Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title/Summary from the song "Lullaby" by Lord Huron.

James smells blood.

Heavy and thick in his nose. Plain with a hint of sweetness. Downstairs, the front door opens and closes.

Is Jacques home?

“Dear?” He stands, alarmed. James rushes out and runs down the staircase. “Jacques! Jacques, is that you?” He reaches the bottom of the stairs and gasps.

Jacques is soaked head-to-toe in blood. It drips from his sleeves and pools on the floor of the mudroom, seeping into the winter boot mat.

“Oh my goodness, are you okay-” James is swept up in a gleeful hug.

That sick scent is closer now, stronger. It’s not Jacques’ blood; he would know.

It’s human blood. There – there’s _bucketfuls_ of it. Staining the floor, Jacques’ clothes, James’ clothes now too, sticking to his hands when James tries to pull away. He’s used to the sight of blood, of course – he needs it to live. It often makes him hungry.

He couldn’t be less hungry right now.

Jacques starts laughing. Bright and exuberant. He swings James around and sets him on his shaky feet and keeps laughing and laughing. His peals of excitement are starting to turn into hyena shrieks of joy. He pulls James down for a kiss, leaving red fingerprints on his neck and cheeks. James tastes more blood in his mouth and he tries to push Jacques off, but now there’s fingers in his hair and on his waist keeping him locked in.

He gets a moment of reprieve. A second to breathe.

“J-Jacques, don’t-” James breaks off into a coughing fit. He puts his hands on his knees and pushes back nausea. Tries to wipe off his crimson face but his hands aren’t any cleaner.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay.” Jacques rubs his back and strokes his hair with wet hands. Manic hands, quick and rough. “You’re safe now, darling. Everything’s okay. Nothing to worry about anymore.”

“Wh-what?” James coughs again and spits out blood. “Stop, Jacques, I think I’m going to be sick. I – I can’t – don’t touch me-”

“Are you hungry? You’re hungry. You need to eat.”

He shakes his head. Far from it. “No, no, I – mmph-”

More blood in his mouth. Jacques’ fingers are coated in it, and he seems to think that it’s a great idea to shove them into James’ mouth without warning.

_He’s not listening, he’s not listening-_

“Mmph!” James gags. He grabs at Jacques’ hand. Tries to yank it out, but Jacques just hooks his fingers in his teeth. “Mmm, mmph!” _Stop, stop!_ He tries to scream.

His love seems to mistake the source of his panic.

“There, there,” Jacques coos. He wipes a few tears from James’ cheek. “Swallow a bit, dear, that’s good. Better?”

He doesn’t see James’ frantic shake of the head, or he doesn’t notice, or he doesn’t care.

But he does give an opening. Takes out his fingers to switch them for his other gory hand.

“Red!” James blurts the second his mouth is clear. “Red, Jacques! _Stop!”_

“What?” Jacques flinches back. He snaps out of whatever sadistic mood he was in. He frowns and reaches for James. “Darling-”

 _“Red!”_ He shrieks. “Don’t touch me!” He backpedals and slips on the floor, landing hard on his backside and scrambling backwards when Jacques tries to help him. “Don’t touch me, that’s an _order!”_

 _Jacques will obey anything you tell him as long as you’re clear,_ Lucy had advised him a few days ago. _Don’t abuse that power, but it’s there if you need it._

Jacques’ eyes widen. He nods and takes a step back. His shoes squelch on the floor. “Don’t touch you,” he dutifully repeats. As if to explain it to himself. “You – you safeworded and we – we’re not even...” He swallows and looks lost. “I’m doing something wrong. Something you don’t like.”

“Yes. That’s right. L-Listen to me. That – that’s an order.”

“Yes, James. Listen to you,” Jacques repeats. He slowly kneels and puts his hands in clear view on his knees. “I’m listening.”

James coughs and wipes his mouth and chin. “Y-You’re scaring me. I don’t know what’s _wrong_ with you, why you’re acting like this, why you don’t realize how – how _awful_ this is! You’re covered in blood that’s not yours and you’re hysterical and you don’t seem to care and you weren’t listening to me when I told you to stop and – and-”

He breaks off into panicked breaths, too fast.

“Did you kill someone?” He asks. He doesn’t want to know but he needs to know. “Be honest. That’s an order.”

“Yes, James.” Jacques shows no guilt. “I did.”

“Why? Why?”

Jacques cocks his head and softly smiles. “Why do I do anything, sweetheart?”

Oh no. No, no. James’ stomach churns. He puts one hand over his mouth. _For me._

That’s too much. Too much for one day, for one hour. “Y-You’re allowed to hug me,” James sobs. “I w-want you to hug me, but that’s it.”

Jacques is warm. Too warm. But gentle, wrapping arms around James and holding him to his chest.

“I love you,” he whispers. “You know that I’d do anything for you. Anything. It doesn’t matter what it is if it’s to keep you safe.”

“Safe f-from what?” James cries. “You always say that, you always say it’s to keep me safe, but I _am_ safe!”

“Of course you are. You are now.” Jacques strokes his arm. “I make sure of it. I always make sure. There was a loose end that needed to be taken care of. I took care of it.” He interlaces their fingers, looking up for permission to pull away if needed. “I’ll protect you from anything. Nothing will _ever_ touch you.”

 _The possessiveness will eventually fade,_ Lucy had said when James had asked. _Certain honeymooning demons have it worse than others, but all suffer from an idiotic overprotectiveness towards their new partners. He won’t hurt you, but he’ll do shit to others. If it means protecting you. Or what he **thinks** is protecting you. _

“I can’t deal with this. Take me to the bathroom,” James orders. “I’m going to be sick if we don’t clean up right now. Pick me up and carry me, I – I’m really dizzy.”

Jacques obeys. He cradles James in his arms and takes him into the master bathroom. James turns on the shower and starts undressing, ordering Jacques to do the same and dump their ruined clothing into a garbage bag.

“You’re allowed to touch me in the shower,” James says. “But don’t you _dare_ touch my mouth.”

Jacques looks sheepish. “You’re mad at me.”

“I am.” James starts washing himself, keeping his eyes away from the ruddy water running into the drain. “I’m very upset with you. You scared me and you didn’t listen and you must _always_ listen when I tell you no.”

“Yes, James. I’m sorry.” Jacques takes over the washing of their bodies, keeping his hands far away from James’ head. The blood washes away but the memory stays.

James turns off the water when they’re done. He stands in the silent shower and fights back tears. What to do now? Jacques killed someone for him and there’s no going back from that. He doesn’t even know who it was. He hadn’t dared ask.

“D-Dear.” James clears his throat. Ugh, he still tastes blood in his mouth. “Let’s dry off.”

“Of course, of course.” Jacques helps him out and dries him off, wrapping him in his bathrobe.

“Go clean up,” James orders when he’s mostly dry. “Don’t come back for at least ten minutes. I need some alone time.”

“Yes, James.” Jacques obediently turns away. He pauses and turns back. “I, um…” He looks nervous, then shakes his head and turns away again. “Never mind.”

“No, speak your mind.”

“I said _never mind,”_ he snaps. Sharp teeth bared in a defensive snarl.

James flinches. _“Do_ _not_ take that tone with me. Now answer. What were you going to say?”

He sighs. “I’m sorry. I wanted to kiss you?” His voice is quiet. He knows what the answer will be.

“No. You do not deserve to kiss me right now.”

Jacques turns away quickly, but he can’t hide the quick swipe under his eyes. It’s a bit pathetic.

“Dear, come here.” James beckons him over. “A compromise. You may kiss my hand.”

He can count on one hand the number of times he’s ever seen Jacques tearful. Jacques’ lip wobbles. He keeps his eyes down and takes James’ offered hand, raising it to his mouth and gently kissing it.

“I’m sorry, I’m _sorry,”_ he whispers. “I don’t know what I’ve done, I don’t _understand,_ I’m just – I’m just trying to love you, love you, love you…”

He sinks to his knees on the tile floor, still holding onto his hand. “I only want you to be happy, that’s all, I want the best for you, I want to see you smile and I don’t know what I’m doing _wrong,_ just tell me what I’m doing wrong.” He looks up for permission before kissing his hand again, more fervently. “I want to be right. I don’t want you to be mad, don’t be mad, please, don’t leave – you always leave when you’re mad. Don’t leave…” He sniffs back tears. “I aim to please you, I aim to please and it’s not working, please,” he kisses it again. “Please tell me, let me do _anything_ to make it up to you so you don’t leave, please…”

“Jacques.” James tries to keep his voice cold and confident, but it’s hard when his darling is like this. “J-Jacques, go clean up. I don’t want to see you for at least ten minutes. I understand that you’re just trying your best, but…” He sighs and feels drained. “We’ll talk. I will tell you what you did wrong and I will tell you how to make it better. Until then, just give me a little while.”

“Yes, James.” Jacques stands and lets go of him. “I love you.”

James sighs again and says nothing. Jacques turns away and hurries out of the room.

Alone. Quiet. James brushes his teeth three times before he feels satisfied that his mouth is finally clean. He changes into pajamas and flops onto the master bed, face-down on the quilt. He needs to figure out who Jacques killed. Doubtless he’ll find out sooner or later, but he’d prefer sooner.

A random innocuous text to friends will do as a first step. Something innocent: James asks if they’re free this weekend, saying he’s making “urgent” plans.

Caradoc responds first. Then Elliot, then Stacey, Aisha, Sonya, Azarias. James breathes a sigh of relief. None of them, then.

This approach won’t work with the sisters. James calls Lucy.

“Hi.” Her voice is flat. “What do you need, James? Could this wait?”

“A-Are you and Harriett okay?” He asks. “I – I don’t, it’s just that Jacques just came home all bloody-”

“Cecilus.” Lucy sighs. “He killed Cecilus.”

James gasps. “Oh my goodness…” He didn’t even know or like Cecilus that much. But hearing someone else confirm the situation hurts. “Lucy, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know-”

“Not your fault. Better him than me and he had it coming. Just,” she sighs again, “just try to keep Jacques inside or with you. For all our sake, in case he decides that someone else is a threat.”

“O-Okay. Thank you, Lucy, and I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, whatever. Bye.” She hangs up.

James lets his phone fall from his numb fingers onto the bedspread.

There is a quiet knock on the door. He startles and looks at his phone. Fifteen minutes have gone by.

“Dear?” Jacques pokes his head into the room. He keeps his eyes down.

“Come in.” James closes his eyes for a moment. He needs to stay strong and in control.

Jacques comes into the room and kneels in front of the bed at James’ feet. He folds his hands in his lap and does his best to look meek.

“We need to talk.”

“Yes, James. I will listen.”

“Good.” James sighs. Time for a difficult conversation. How to explain to a demon that they need to do good?

An impossible task. But he must try.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

Jacques did something bad.

He doesn’t know why it was bad – he was just trying to _protect_ James. But his husband said it was bad and got very upset and angry about the whole thing. Jacques didn’t listen to him and he crossed lines.

So now he must atone. He will do _anything_ to return to James’ good graces. No punishment is too severe for upsetting his darling so severely.

It’s morning. He should go to the Org for the day. He goes into the library room and opens his mouth to tell James he’s going.

No. That’s not right. He’s being punished right now, and that means rules.

Instead, Jacques silently enters and kneels at James’ feet with his hands in his lap and his eyes down. Demeaning, a demon restrained like this; what was that song? _Don’t you ever tame your demons, but always keep them on a leash…_

A metaphorical leash he is more than happy to wear. He waits. Minutes that stretch on, broken only by James unhurriedly turning a page.

“Go ahead,” James finally gives permission to speak.

“Good morning, dear,” Jacques tries with a peek up and a small smile.

James does not return his smile. Jacques quickly drops it and looks down.

“May I go to the Org this morning?” He asks.

“For how long?”

“Until two or three in the afternoon. Sooner if you desire it.”

“Hmph. Be h-home by three o’clock.” James is unused to authority but he wears it well.

“Yes, James.” Jacques waits. He has no more to say, but he does not have permission to leave. He doesn’t dare ask to touch James. He has not earned that yet.

James makes him wait a few more minutes before ordering him to leave.

At the Org, Jacques gives his excuses to Stacey to leave early so he can stop by the store and still be home on time.

James is in the kitchen when he returns, doing a crossword puzzle.

As is expected of him, Jacques kneels on the cold kitchen tiles and waits to speak.

“What do you have there?” James asks, giving him a curious glance.

Unsure if that was an invitation to speak, Jacques only smiles and holds up his gift. Lilies and tulips, James’ favorite flowers. And not a big bouquet, just a few of each. Sometimes he enjoyed big dramatic displays, sometimes smaller was better. He aimed for a more modest gift this time.

“Oh, these are very pretty, thank you.” James smells the flowers then sets them aside. “Please fetch a vase to put these in.” Jacques dutifully stands and does that, arranging them in the vase just so. He goes back to kneeling and tries not to look too hopeful. A gesture like that could either work very well in his favor or could instead backfire.

“Jacques, that was very sweet of you.” James holds out his hand. “You may hold my hand. I – I’m impressed with your obedience so far. You’re listening very well.”

James’ hand is soft and cold. Jacques takes it gingerly and runs his thumb over the back of it.

He continues to hold James’ hand while he finishes his crossword puzzle. He relishes that touch and turns over the memory for the rest of the afternoon, satisfied.

* * *

Two more days of this go by before Jacques slips up.

“Sweetheart,” he touches James’ shoulder. “I-”

“Jacques,” James snaps, whirling and pushing off Jacques’ hand.

Oh _no._ Jacques slaps the offending hand over his mouth. He did not have permission to talk. He did not have permission to touch.

He drops to his knees and swallows hard. What is the punishment for messing up a punishment?

James makes him wait, pacing above him.

“Speak,” James orders. “Explain yourself.”

Jacques pushes past embarrassment at feeling so helpless. He’s a demon and he’s letting himself be ordered around like this. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think and I didn’t respect your boundaries and I should know better and I – I promised you that I would listen and wait.” He bites his lip and risks an upward glance. “I am sorry that I lapsed and I will accept any punishment you see fit to give.”

“Give me an example of an appropriate punishment.”

“I – I very badly want to touch you. Or please you. I would be willing to beg for it, even if just to let you use my mouth.” Jacques blushes at the forwardness. He’s not normally coy when it comes to sex, but after so many days of not being able to touch his lover beyond chaste hand touches, he feels like a Victorian virgin.

“Th-Then beg.” James crosses his arms.

What a role reversal. Normally James is the one begging Jacques for something, but now the tables have turned and Jacques is the submissive one.

“Please,” he starts. A weak start. He likes begging to be specific and humiliating. He owes it to James to provide that kind of degradation himself. “James, I only want to make you happy. I want to appreciate you as you should be appreciated. You deserve to be worshipped. You – you deserve to fuck my mouth until I couldn’t talk even if you allowed me to. Until I’m hoarse for days. You deserve to choke me so that I can’t breathe, so that I gag on you.” He fights the urge to hide in a hole for saying such words and pushes past the discomfort. “I don’t deserve anything other than to be used by you u-until you make a mess of me.”

James doesn’t react at first. Then he raises an eyebrow. “You – you’re – you have filthy ideas,” he finally stutters. “Do it, then.”

“May I touch you?”

“Absolutely not with your hands.” James unbuttons his own pants. “You may only tap me if you need to breathe.”

Jacques nods. He will be doing no such thing, but it’s always nice to have the option.

Start slow. James likes slow and gentle. When Jacques finally takes him down in full, James groans and locks his fingers in Jacques’ hair. He pushes just a little deeper until he can’t breathe, but it’s worth it to feel his husband’s reaction.

He tries to pull back so he can repeat the motion, but James’ hands on the back of his head stop him. His lover thrusts into his throat and Jacques chokes. Again he thrusts, then again, building up a slow but steady rhythm that gives Jacques split seconds to breathe through his nose.

There is always the option to tap out. But fuck it, this is punishing because this is a _punishment._ Jacques resists the urge to use his demonic strength to push himself back. Instead he lets James fuck his throat. Dizzily looks up and hums, barely able to see his gorgeous husband through watering eyes. Tearful from humiliation and the fullness that is making him light-headed.

The discipline could be worse. _Should_ be worse. James is generous and kind, but Jacques is a demon who has a tendency towards masochism and self-punishment. He puts a hand to his own throat and squeezes. Once, twice, knowing he’s leaving bruises on his own neck and hardly caring.

James gasps at the new sensation and finishes down his throat. Jacques gags but swallows, hardly given a choice when he can’t pull back, when he’s helpless and used. Aiming only to please his husband, desperate to please, and he _is_ pleasing him-

Finally released. Jacques manages to catch himself on his elbows. He sputters and coughs, wipes his mouth and chin with the back of his hand.

“Th-Thank you,” he wheezes. His voice sounds like shit and even those two words burn his abused throat. He takes off his glasses and scrubs at his leaking eyes with his sleeve. He doesn’t know why he’s crying, because he feels so good and floaty and satisfied.

“Oh dear,” James sounds similarly dazed. “Dear, you always find a way to punish yourself even more than I ask.” He kneels and strokes Jacques’ wet cheek. “Are you okay?”

Jacques nods. He’s more than okay, he’s _wonderful._

“O-Okay. I – I’m sorry, I’m not very good at this…” James is at a loss for what to do. Normally Jacques is the one comforting _him,_ not the other way around.

He kisses Jacques.

Not a punishment, then: a reward more valuable than anything else on this worthless earth. Jacques melts into it with a delighted hum. He wants more, more, he wants to touch James, but he doesn’t dare. _James_ is in charge, not him.

“I love you,” James whispers. He kisses him again.

“I love you too,” Jacques rasps. “More than anything. More than I can stand.”

James smiles. “You’re so – so sweet, dear. I think you’ve almost learned your lesson. Two more days of this, I think. How does that sound?”

Jacques nods. Yes, yes, whatever he wants. That is incredibly lenient considering the severity of his transgressions.

“Good.” James stands and pats the top of his head like a dog, like Jacques isn’t a demon who could tear apart anyone who dared threaten them. “I – I’ll let you ride me when this is over, I think. You deserve it for being so good. You may go now.”

His cheeks burn with embarrassment when he looks at himself in the bathroom mirror and still sees drool and cum dripping down his chin. Eyes reddened from crying. But he pleased his husband. He is doing good, doing better, and James is happy with him again.

Worth it. Worth _anything_ to make him happy. And now he has a reward to look forward to.

* * *

Two days go by.

Jacques is obedient. He is sweet and he listens and he makes James happy. If he’s happy, then Jacques is too.

“Come here,” James orders at the end of the last day. He pats the edge of the bed.

“Yes, James.” Jacques kneels on the floor in front of him out of habit. He likes to adore his husband from below like his lover is a glorious idol and Jacques is but a humble worshipper at his feet.

“I – oh, um…” James clears his throat. “You’ve been very good for me. You listen and you pay attention to my boundaries and when I tell you no. You’re being very considerate and lovely and gentle and – and that’s what I like.” He musters up confidence that he doesn’t normally possess. “Your punishment is now over. You are free to speak to me and touch me whenever you want as long as I don’t say you can’t. Understand?”

“Yes, James.” Jacques’ heart soars. His husband said he was good… “Thank you.”

James blushes and smiles to himself. “You’re more submissive than I thought you could be,” he admits. “It’s surprising. You – you’re normally so…” he blushes even redder. “So rough and impatient. I _do_ like that, but only in moderation.”

“Anything for you.” Jacques obediently smiles. “Anything.”

“I know.” James hides his red face. “Come up here and – and be with me? I miss you.”

No further invitation is needed. Jacques grins and pounces on him, careful to lower his husband’s head to the bedspread and only kiss him gently. He pays attention when James whines that he wants him, _now,_ and he listens when James gasps, rocking up into him as Jacques rides him.

“Am I allowed to-”

“Yes!” James blurts before he’s even done asking. “Yes, yes-”

Jacques greatly prefers his husband yelling “Yes” over him screaming “No”. He eats up the affirmations that James lets loose, as they both finish together.

Together and happy, like they ought to be.

 _Forever, forever,_ Jacques silently promises as he kisses the love of his life. He wants him to be happy. He wants him to smile and he will do _anything_ to make sure that happens.

Anything.


End file.
